


Theme park

by Fridge4422



Series: Theme park [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Mistrust, Multi, Road Trips, Suspense, Suspicions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-02 19:26:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17269661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fridge4422/pseuds/Fridge4422
Summary: The team go on a trip to a supposedly wonderful theme park. With hours of traveling in one RV, will they be able to survive themselves to get to their destination?Will they be able to survive their destination?





	1. RV

“A theme park?”

The words were the first to come out of the mouth of Scout during the briefing, either because he was paying attention, or paying attention to _other_ aspects of Ms. Pauling. Still, his uncomfortable staring didn’t completely erase his mind from the briefing.

“Yes Scout, we are going to a theme park.” Replied Ms. Pauling in a short tone.

“Yeah but, _why?”_

Ms. Pauling shot him an _I just explained this_ look. “Scout, I just explained this”

“No I know we’re getting a day off from the old lady, but this doesint seem out of the ordinary for her to do?” he looked for his teammates to see if they were a bit skeptical as he was.

“Son, I’m a bit confused as you are, but I’m not going to question the giving hand” replied Engineer, who was also processing this information with a bit of uncertainty. “Is there a rodeo machine?”

Ms. Pauling stifled a laugh. “Its one of the biggest theme parks in the country, of course there is”

With a smile from Engineer, she turned back to the board. “The bad part is,” she continued. “ _SOMEONE_ may or may not have decided to use our only vehicle to go drag racing, and then cause a shootout killing about 30 gang members.”

The room turned to Scout and Heavy.

“No idea what your talking about” said Scout nonchalantly. Ms.  Pauling turned her stare to Heavy, who was sucking down the last slice of turkey from his sandwich. “Da, what tiny man says.”

Before Scout could glare at him for calling him “tiny man” in front of his not-so-secret-to-anyone-in-the-world-crush on Ms. Pauling, she continued with the briefing.

“Anyway, we’ve received a new vehicle to go on the overnight trip. It is a combat-enhanced RV, with tiny rooms built in to accommodate all ten of us. I will be driving.”

This got a sigh of relief from the 8 members of the team. The only other option was Engineer, but ever since he tried to re enact one of the Jumps from the TV series, “Dukes of Hazard”, he was unofficially banned from it.

“Ow did we get an RV so big, aye?” replied a half-drunk Demo man, which at this point was his normal state. Ms. Pauling replied swiftly. “If you must know, we almost caused the nuclear holocaust stealing it from a soviet base, and then converting it into an RV.”

“Aye, fair enough.”

 

The team followed Ms. Pauling into the main garage of their base. What awaited them was a semi-truck size RV, that looked like a joy to be in.

“How long is zhe trip?” called out Medic from the back of the group.

“15 hours” Ms. Pauling said. “I got a full night’s rest, something which is completely new to me.” She said feeling proud, although realizing her statement was sadder than anything else. Thank god she got paid enough, though.

Scout practically dived next to the door into the RV, eager to check out the inside. It was far better than they expected, Cool lights he didn’t know the meaning of, a full-sized kitchen and table, and rooms to themselves. He never been inside an RV before, but something told him this was top quality.

The rest of the team soon followed and got accompanied with their surroundings. The hallway next to the rooms led all the way through the RV to the back, which had a porch-like opening with two chairs. Sniper quickly accompanied himself in this area. _Nothing beats my old camper_. He thought to himself.

Before Medic got in, he debated whether he should bring Archimedes, his favorite bird. Well, not his favorite, but certainly most loyal. He though no better person to ask than…

“Ms. Pauling, do you zhink I should bring zhe bird?”

Ms. Pauling looked up from her purse, fishing out the keys to the RV. She paused for a minute, before glancing setting her purse down. “Will he crap of the carpet?”

Medic seemed confused at first, then laughed. “Oh, heavens no! I surgically implement basic manners in all my birds Ms. Pauling.”

Ms. Pauling thought she heard everything but operating on the brains of doves was out of the question. “Can you do the same thing with Scout?” She expected a laugh but got an answer.

“Oh, I thought about it quite often Ms. Pauling, but if I changed him, I’m afraid we just wouldn’t have the same Scout is all.”

“You guys do realize this RV isn’t that big?” called Scout from around the corner of the kitchen.

Medic, cursing at himself in German, failed to find a reply to Scout’s comment, and simply ignored it. He thought nothing of it.

 

But of course, Scout thought the entire world of it. He knew people complained about him, but that’s just because they were jealous of him, right? But Ms. Pauling? No way, she was perfect in every way possible. How was she going to be Jealous of him? Was he really that obnoxious?

Scout being Scout of course, jumped to conclusions. Maybe he shouldn’t talk unless necessary? Yes, Yes of course! Why hadn’t he thought of it sooner? He’ll just channel out his boredom into something physical instead of language.

He plopped down his small duffel bag and searched through until he found his trusty baseball. He decided that this was his saving grace, his chance to redeem himself. They might be annoyed with his constant twirling of the ball, but surely, they’ll prefer it over his constant talking.

Just then, Spy appeared. In the corner of his room.

Scout jumped a foot into the air, muttering a mix between “shit”, “Jesus Christ” and “what the hell” to his coworker. Just coworker, not a fath-

“Just popping in to see your next idiotic move is all. You do manage to impress me sometimes Scout.” The French man said with a smirk. Scout then realized something. This was his test, whether Spy had intended it to be or not.

He smiled to himself, and quickly got back to juggling the baseball. Spy was not amused. He should be citing some passages from Solider about French Military history, not ignoring him. He got back to work.

“So, what’s the big plan Scout?”

Scout stopped catching the ball and held it in his hand. He shrugged at Spy and continued tossing to himself.

“You aren’t using a big plan to woo Ms. Pauling for, say, the thousandth time?”

Scout just shrugged again and headed for the door. Spy stopped him.

“What are you doing?”

“Going out to see what Solider and Demo are up to.”

Then, Scout broke away from the conversation and went into the kitchen to where Solider and Demo were talking about different guns. He sat down next to solider and-

Wait. _Listened?_

No such thing is possible. Right?

Spy’s thoughts ran through his mind before it clicked. _He is trying to be different._ Spy chuckled to himself, did the kid really think he was going to change overnight? He thought better of him to believe so. He’d crack within the hour.

 

When the RV pulled out of the base and went on the road, that’s when Spy decided to start the clock. Within the hour he’d revert to square one.

When he checked up on Scout, Demo, and Solider to see him still listening and only commenting once or twice, his anger turned into observation.

He waded over to Ms. Pauling and sat himself down in the passenger seat. Ms. Pauling glanced at him through the corner of her eyes, and then set back on the barren road, colored orange by sunset.

“Are you hearing something Ms. Pauling?” he asked rhetorically to her.

“Spy, I’m just as confused as you are. Did Medic actually rewire his brain?” she said with a nervous look at him and Scout.

“No, madame”. Spy said after a long pause. “I think-“ he paused. He knew he was doing it for the team and for her, but would ruining his secret plan be worth it? Or should he let the flames burn themselves?

“I think… Well, I honestly don’t know Ms. Pauling.”

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“It’s too risky Snipes.”

The time was nearing 11 PM, and Scout hadn’t given up yet, much to the surprise of the team.

They didn’t confront him about it, due to a mix of liking the change or the lack of positive effects of confronting him. That’s not to say of course he became a mute, him, Solider, and Demo had been talking for hours, but not to the extent of Scout’s usual ramblings.

Sniper, who took a break from half-sleeping in the back of the RV, came over to the booth near the kitchen to heckle Scout about, anything really. Some members of the team tried to throw Scout off the rails of his promise, but to no avail.

“Ya gotta do it mate, it’s foolproof”

“Whateva, ey Engie, back me up on this.” He called over his shoulder into the kitchen.

Engineer who was resting on an armchair near the cabin, glanced up from his beer. “I wasn’t paying attention, say again?”

Scout just sighed and turned his attention to a smirking Sniper. “Already told you, not happening.”

Engineer scooted into the booth next to sniper. “What are we talking about?”

Sniper swiftly replied, “His date”

Engineer rolled his eyes to Scout, who was leaning forward on the table, still juggling his baseball. He tried to get his sentry to play ball with him since the team didn’t want to, but he could only train it to shoot it down rather than catch. Scout wasn’t happy that day.

Solider, who was snoring on another armchair, was awoken by the tap of his shoulder by Demo, who was holding a very large bottle of “Scrumpy” as he called it. Yet, this bottle was almost triple the size. They both waltzed over to the booth and sat down, with Demo setting his drink the center.

Engineer noticed right away. “You really want to do a drinking game?” he said to the pair, the answer which he knew before they could respond. He fetched out 5 shot glasses that had the state of Texas inscribed onto them and set them down on the table.

Demo filled each shot glass, and once each was full each team member chugged their own, reacting it to their own way. Mostly wincing at the strong concentration of alcohol.

“How do you drink this anyway demo?” was the reply of Scout, as he gave up his shot glass to be refilled.

“Ya all just cowards aye.” Replied Demo sheepishly.

They each took another shot, and when Scout got up at first, he was yanked down by Solider. Demo shot up with a shout. “We do not smile upon deserters to the cause laddie!”

“I aint deserting, just going to the bathroom is all” he said.

“Fuck ya bathroom break commie!” cried Solider. Scout caved in and sat back down, downing another shot in sync with his team. Then, in walked Medic.

“Scout is drinking that and surviving? Fascinating!” he joked. He quickly scanned the room. “Have you seen heavy?”

“He’s in his room” said Engineer, who was refilling the shot glasses again. “Normally Drinking games are prolonged, but we are no mere mortals” he said with a contagious laughter that infected his other coworkers.

Scout, who was already buzzed, stopped Medic short. “Hold on Doc, I’ll use echolocation!” he made “waaaaaa” sounds around the room, getting a laugh from his coworkers. “Are you some fucking dolphin?” yelled Engie.

_Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa_

_Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa_

_WaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAARRRGHHH!_

Scout tripped over an armchair, falling face first on the ground. “Yep, he’s in his room!” his voice was lost in the laughter of his teammates.

Scout found his way back to his seat, and the team got two more rounds of alcohol in. Now, this is where the fun begins.

Scout downed another one of his glasses and began to shift around. “uhhh…” he began to mumble slightly.

Solider perked up “Remember what I said about deserters private!”

_“I’m not- I- I’m not”_

“Pussy!” cried Medic from the sink.

“ _I’m not a fucking… pussy fuck you.”_ He said silently to himself.

“Remember that time of HighTower Scout?” said Engineer to help keep him alive?

Scout perked up a bit. “Oh yeah right so I go _t... uhh I got, neeh.”_

Sifiling a laughter, Medic sat in an armchair. “Come on Scout, get the words out.”

The entire table was now giggling like schoolgirls from their drunkenness. It was going to be a fun night.

Engineer, who was slowly sinking in the booth, pulled himself up. “Scout, your already pissed, aren’t you?” he said while laughing.

Medic laughed from his chair, “A lightweight I presume!”

Scout, who like the team was doubled over in laughter, cried out “I think- I think this alcohol is a bit to _STRONGGG.”_ His last word coming out as more of a wheeze than anything.

At this point, the rest of the team showed up, including Spy, and the RV was filled with contagious laughter.

Solider tried to take control of the situation. “Alright mag-maggots, listen up!”

Engineer quickly called out “Listen down!” At this point, they were beyond saving. The shots began to pile up, and the night faded in and out. On multiple occasions, Scout fell out of his chair from laughter. When the next shot was announced, Scout called out.

“No man, please”

“PUSSY! PUSSY! PUSSY!” the team was chanting in singsong as a way of mocking Scout.

“Yo-You don’t understand, I-I’m gonna fucking hurl”

The team practically collapsed with laughter, and the next shot wasn’t reached. “I’m magnanimous” Scout slowly said.

Heavy boomed with laughter. “Tiny man can’t hold alcohol. Funny to me!” Scout, still laughing, replied. “You shut up you’re a fuckin- fat fuck” he wheezed out, before they both were drawn out by everyone’s laughter.

Medic came over, “Scout, say really slowly, Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.” Laughter filled the room, but Scout shot up. “I can do that, Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!” he said with ease.

Medic was unimpressed. “You’re still drunk.” Scout challenged him again with laughter. “I could pronounce the world difficult for you all to pronounce now because I am not _dunk!”_

Laughter filled the room once again. “This is just, a form of communication, to help me understand you, better!” he said to Medic, who was barely containing his laughter. Pyro was jumping up and down from happiness in the background.

As the laughter persisted, The RV thundered with the crash of metal. On the barren, desert road, the tires shifted in different directions, swinging the rear end of the bus to the left side of the road, before coming to a screeching halt. Inside, the team was shoved around, and had to brace to hold themselves together. Once the screeching stopped, Medic fetched his Medigun and briefly over healed each mercenary.

The team realized over heal cured drunkenness, something Medic had planned to market if he had the time. Ms. Pauling swung the door to the cabin open, breathing rapidly, the team rushed over.,

“Ms. P, what happened?” said Scout, and he fetched his scattergun from his duffel bag on the kitchen counter.

“No, I- I just, The bus hit something. I think it was some deer.” She said nervously.

“Scout, go check the engine and tell me if I need to fetch my tools from my room.”

Scout nodded, and made his way out of the RV, closing the door behind him. He switched on a flashlight he kept in his duffel bag, and made his way to the front of the RV.

He was greeted by the sound of… nothing.

He expected crickets to be chirping through the air, but the air fell silent. The air was still with no wind, and the only sound was the thumping of Scout’s own heartbeat in his ears.

He began to feel uneasy. The only illumination was from the inside lights of the RV, emitting a small area of safety for Scout. Beyond the illumination were the silhouettes of cactuses and rocks for a short distance, and then the complete void of darkness.

His feet dragged on the cracked highway, which besides their RV, was completely devoid of any other life. He hadn’t seen a car drive past for hours, and no lights were visible to him.

His shoes slowly stepped around to the front of the RV, which displayed a horror beyond which Scout had seen before in his life. The torso was mangled and stretched, with insect-like legs coming out of the chest of it. Its head was covered in a thin layer of unknown slime, which wrapped around the entrails of its former organs. Blood was covering the entirety of it, and its head was in the form of a wild dog, brandishing sharp teeth.

The organism, whatever it was, was frozen in place. Scout slowly scanned the horizon. He swore there were more silhouettes of cactuses.

The silence was broken by the RV door pushed open by Medic, who was putting on his white medical overcoat. He followed the steps of Scout as if to ask a question, but his face was frozen upon discovery of their roadkill. The rest of the team followed outside.

“Ms. Pauling, what the hell did you hit?” said Scout, who was still scanning the horizon with nervous eyes, ones that eventually found their way to Ms. Pauling, who alike Medic, was staring at it.

“I-I don’t know, I wasn’t paying attention Scout, the road stretches out in a straight line for miles, I didn’t think…” her voice fell silent, running out of words.

Medic took a step closer to, _it._ Thick, short fur covered the head of it, but stopped at the torso. “Fascinating” Medic mumbled to himself. “A combination of beasts that are different… but how?”

Medic knelt on the pavement and closer examined it. “Doctuer, it might still be alive” popped the Frenchman, who was on the other side of the team, leaning against the RV. Medic gestured toward Heavy, who went into the RV and returned with a small medical kit. The Russian set it down next to Medic, who opened the cold latches to reveal several Syringes, bandages, etc.

Upon further notice, Scout realized the skin of the organism was thin, as if peeled off layer by layer. Engineer adjusted his hardhat while speaking. “Doc, this some kind of mutant? There’s no way a creature like this could survive so long.”

Medic glanced towards him, and then the team. “That is what perplexes me. I’m going to further examine it, blood tests, zhe whole nine yards. Zhats what Americans say, ja?”

With a nervous chuckle from Engineer, Medic pulled out a small syringe. He turned towards the organism and eased towards it. The team watched Medic with nervous thoughts. Scout and Sniper looked around the horizon.

Scout wasn’t too fond of their situation, and he could tell Sniper wasn’t either. His ring finger shook slightly, the adrenaline pumping through his fast-moving heart. The darkness engulfed the RV, as if trapping them on a deserted island. The absence of crickets and the wind produced a terrible silence.

Ms. Pauling shook with nervous hands. She hadn’t seen what the RV hit, and if only she paid attention, she might have not hit it in the first place. She glanced through the team, swearing they were silently judging her. The darkness didn’t help her anxiety.

As Medic eased the syringe into the skin of it, the blood began to slowly drip into it. The cold air was still on their noses, all watching the transfusion unfold.

The heartbeats were the only sound that filled their ears. Each contraction and relaxation bringing an almost pain to their eardrums, Inhaling and Exhaling becoming alien to their senses. Whether the inhaling and exhaling of the team,

Or the unnoticed inhaling and exhaling of the organism.

The areas around the syringe ripped apart, as long, yellow-green ropes thrashed around. The body of the organism began to shake uncontrollably, and the canine head began to thrash about the gravel, biting at the thin air between it and the mercenaries. Medic launched himself backwards onto the pavement as the group of mercenaries broke into a panic. Scout turned around of the dark horizon to see the yellow ropes wrap around Medic’s neck and tighten, pulling him closer and closer to the open cavity, which began to seemingly grow jaws right before their eyes. Scout unloaded his scattergun into the chest of it, throwing green and red blood through the air.

The beast began to drag itself towards Medic, seemingly unaffected by the shells entering its skin, as they were quickly ejected in different directions. Pyro ran into the RV to fetch his flamethrower, as the cries of help by the German were being unanswered.

Medic pulled away with all his might, but the organism came closer and closer, the yellow ropes around his neck became tighter and tighter. The long, thin insect like legs of the best began to stand upright, walking towards Medic on the ground.

Sniper shredded the rope’s connection with the beast, while Solider tossed a grenade into the chest cavity of it. The resulting explosion launched flames and body parts into the sky, as the mercenaries ducked for cover from the flames and shrapnel.

Medic was still on the ground, suffocating by the yellow ropes. Sniper hacked them off with precision, as pyro returned and torched both the remnants of the beast and the yellow ropes that were once on Medic’s neck.

The team, surrounded by the flaming corpse of the beast, yellow ropes and blood seeping into the cracks of the hard pavement all turned their attention to Ms. Pauling.

Scout asked the question all on their minds.

_“Ms. Pauling, what the hell did you hit?”_

 


	3. Chapter 3

Medic had been ushered in the RV, along with the rest of the team. He had no injuries but was still shaken up by his almost near-death experience. He held a small glass of whiskey in his hand, the ice contained inside sloshing around from the slight shaking of his hand.

Ms. Pauling fell rather quiet following the interaction. The team all knew she blamed herself for it, but no amount of Medic forgiving her, or any other consultation was futile. She rested on the corner of an armchair staring down at the ground while the team discussed the event.

“Engineer, where the hell do you think your goin?” said Scout from the hallway.

“I need to check out the engine, Pyro, come with.” They exited the RV and closed the door behind them. As Solider and Demo watched them from the windows, Medic fetched the blood vial in his pocket.

“I need to examine zhese, excuse me.”

The nervous eyes of the team followed Medic to his room, but they made no effort to stop him.

As the room fell silent, the eyes of Heavy, Scout, Sniper, Solider, Demo and Ms. Pauling all exchanged glances between each other. Scout leaned off the kitchen counter and headed for the cab of the vehicle. Sniper leaned forward a bit from his armchair. “Mate, where you goin?”

Scout stopped shortly, “I’m going to see Engineer without having to go outside”. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. The cabin held two large armchairs facing the dashboard. He sat down in the passenger armchair and leaned towards the window.

Through the glass, Engineer could be seen under the front of the vehicle, with parts skewed around. Scout couldn’t understand engines worth a shit, so he really was no use to him. He glanced around to see Pyro eyeing the horizon.

 

Medic tapped his fingers impatiently on his desk. His mind was running through a billion possibilities, but he couldn’t slow down to catch one of them in his mind.

He leaned back on his cushioned office chair. He retrieved the blood vial from his pocket and fiddled it in his hand. The blood sloshed around inside when he ran it through his fingers. Medic fetched a clean syringe from his medical bag and called down to his bird.

“Archimedes? Here my love!” he called out, and a short while later the bird flew in and landed on the desk in front of him. As soon as the bird saw the syringe, he visibly shook.

“Oh, come now Archimedes, it’s only a drop!” he said with a forced laugh. He stopped short before injecting the syringe, as a wave of Deja vu ran over him.

Reluctantly, he slowly put in the syringe and extracted a small drop of blood from Archimedes. “Now Archimedes,” he said while applying a small bandage to his bird. “Do you know what I am currently doing?”

The bird cooed. “Exactly Archimedes, I am seeing how this blood is different from yours! That way we might be able to understand it.”

He squeezed out a drop of blood from the bird onto the tray of a microscope, while he took another syringe and used the blood of, well, whatever it was out there next to it. He used the two optics to examine both drops of DNA with each eye.

His left eye showed Archimedes’ blood, which seemed to be operating normally, but his right eye told a different story. The blood cells on the right were rigid and moving radically. Medic leaned off the microscope to jot down on his notebook, and when he glanced up, he was captured by awe.

Ever so slowly, the blood was shifting around. It was attracted to the bird’s blood and crawled its way over. Medic quickly stuck his eyes back into the microscope.

On his left eye, he saw the blood cells behaving normally at first when the radical ones came into view. The blood combined, and the optics showed the rigid cells moving closer and closer to the regular ones.

With close eyes, Medic awaited the cells to kill each other. He assumed the cells on the right were some form of unknown disease, but while observing, everything became clear.

The rigid cells slowly engulfed the normal ones, feeding on them. As time passed in the form of seconds, the cells began to slow. The membranes of the cells became more and more relaxed, the organelles more visible and calmer.

Medic stood up from the table. _Now it all made sense._

The beast wasn’t a lab experiment gone wrong, a mutant, or anything of the sort. It wasn’t the combination of an insect and canine, it was none of that.

It was something horrendous. Something more terrifying than any monster could be. Medic snatched Archimedes from the desk and walked onto the back patio.

“Archimedes, please. Run for civilization. Follow the road. _Do not come back for us.”_

There was a sternness in his voice that shook the bird. The bird, with a farewell in the form of a somber coo, flew off in the direction of where they came. Medic stood there for a moment, watching the dove fade to the darkness.

With a deep breath, Medic stepped back into the RV.

 

“What are you doin here, Ms. P?”

As much as Scout tried, he couldn’t force himself to fall asleep. His eyes were still trained on the horizon before taking a break for Ms. Pauling, with drink still in hand, rested on the driver’s arm chair.

“Did they fix it yet?” she said, with her eyes transfixed on the sloshing of ice in the small glass she had. The red wine taunted her with its color, the red resembling the blood spread across the road in front of them. The corpse, still sizzling from flame, lay off to the side of the road.

“Not at all Ms. Paulin, Engie said the whole motors busted, but he’s still poking around”

Ms. Pauling shot a disgusted look to the window. “He’s doing that while covered in the blood of that thing?”

“The blood aint no harm Ms. Pauling, just disgustin is all.” Said Scout.

Engineer rolled himself out and dusted himself off.  Pyro turned around delighted to see his friend, but then froze.

“Whast’a matter Pyro?” said Engineer with a smile.

Pyro visibly twitched. Engineer had the same joyful smile, the wink of his eye and happy to be doing what he was always doing. Engineer was a prize to the team. A true friend and caretaker of pyro.

Pyro knew that wasn’t Engie. Engie cared for his team, Engineer was the one who taught Pyro how to barbeque with his flamethrower. Engineer had a robotic hand.

Engineer’s robotic hand dripped with blood, his glove soaked in it. They were tossed aside under the vehicle, while “Engineer” brandished two new, fully working hands of flesh. Pyro lifted his flamethrower.

“Engineer’s” smile had disappeared from his face, replaced by a neutral stare. His body began to vibrate, the flesh stretching all around him. His new hands morphed into swords, his face extended past recognition.

Scout and Ms. Pauling were aware of the situation. They jumped back from their seats and scrambled for their weapons. As they retrieved their firearms, Medic stormed out of the sliding door to the patio, brandishing a pistol. The other team members followed suit, and all went outside.

Medic was the first outside, closely followed by his group. They all chanted pleas of “Pyro put down the flamethrower!” and “Jesus Christ!” but not Medic. Medic raised his firearm and unloaded into him.

The best lunged forward, but Pyro torched it before it could make any movements, it began to thrash around, bumping into the side of the RV, and rolling on the ground. The swords swung through the air, impaling Pyro in the chest.

The flamethrower flopped to the ground as the Beast and Pyro downed in flame, despite the best efforts of the team. Screams that of a Banshee emitted from the former “Engineer” as it lunged toward the team.

Not following the fate of Pyro, all team members went inside. Breathing sharp breaths, the looked outside to see the beast stampede into the night, the flame lighting a path until it too was engulfed by darkness.

Before the team had a chance to grieve, Medic turned his firearm toward the team. In the other hand, he held a rope. Their doctor, tasked with saving their lives, had the power to end all of theirs.

Medic shook with rage and sadness. This… _Thing,_ took away two of his friends. It had the audacity to pretend to be them. All the people in front of him could may as well be the re purposed bodies of his friends.

He gestured toward the multiple chairs and table. “Take a seat.” He gulped out. “We have much to go over.”


	4. Chapter 4

Medic put the rope to good use. Using the muscle of his dear friend, Heavy, he tied up every last mercenary to a different piece of furniture. Solider, Demo, and Spy were all tied up to the booth, something Spy was visibly not enjoying the arrangement.

Scout and Sniper were both tied up to different armchairs, while Ms. Pauling had her hands tied above her head to a shelf. Medic leaned against the kitchen counter while Heavy finished tying them all up. The Russian returned to the Medic’s side with flamethrower in hand.

“Alright, so.” Medic said while clapping his hands together. “Basically, zhe organism is not an organism at all. It is a collection of millions of organisms at the cellular level, that work together to assimilate other organisms. Zhis is why we saw the original beast had Insect legs but a canine head. It was in the middle of assimilation when we hit it.”

Ms. Pauling looked down at her feet. She blamed herself to the end. Had she not hit that thing, they would be about only an hour away from their hotel. It was her fault, all of it. Anything that happened would be caused directly by her.

“Zhis is also why, well… We saw “Engineer” the way we did.” The mercenaries looked in all different directions as a moment of solidarity for their friend. They never truly experienced death of someone close to them, with the inclusion of respawn and all. The moment was short lived.

“So what ya sayin is,” Scout mumbled, “We don’t know if anyone is really themselves?”

Medic turned his head in Scout’s direction, but let his eyes stay at the floor. “Yes Scout, we uh… don’t know if anyone is who they are. However,” he said while turning around. “We will know now. Each cell has their own primary function of assimilating other cells. How do they do this? Well, its not one organism as I’ve said before. Each cell is its own organism, and each cell will react its own way.”

The stares from his teammates showed they did not quite understand. “For instance, saw Scout got a chunk of his flesh ripped off. No big deal, right? To Scout, it is merely a chunk of flesh. But if Scout wasn’t…”

Medic stopped before finishing his sentence. With this pause, everyone full and well understood the situation. No amount of previous friendship was going to save them now. No one could be trusted as who they originally were. For all they knew, they were all imitations.

“If Scout wasn’t himself” Medic continued, “The blood reacts on its own, say crawling away from a flame. Which brings us to our test.”

Medic got out what seemed to be plastic lids. He drew out a scalpel from his medical kit. He lined up the medical trays in a line and stood there for a moment. He turned towards the team, exchanging glances to Pauling, Scout and Sniper, and the mercs on the couch.

“I know I’m human, and if you were all these things you would just attack me right now. But you aren’t, which means some of you are still human.” Medic walked over to Heavy, who had his eyes and flamethrower trained on his former teammates.

“Your thumb, please?”

Heavy took a double take at Medic, and reluctantly held out his thumb. Heavy didn’t know if he was taking his blood or going to yank his arm and assimilate him right there.

Medic made an incision on Heavy’s thumb, which slowly leaked blood into the pan. He set down the blood on the counter and walked into the hallway of rooms.

The team’s eyes had no way to follow him, so they ventured to meet each other. Solider and Demo glanced at each other, absent of a smile which they usually had. Scout and Sniper exchanged glances over their shoulders, and Spy leaned back as far away as possible from the other teammates.

There was a terrible silence that creeped its way through the room. Heavy, who was holding the flamethrower that belonged to pyro, held it on a swivel, reaching the flame into the path of his friends, almost daring the thing to leech out and try to attack.

Medic returned with a toolbox, one that belonged to Engineer. In one hand, he held a red wire. He used another scalpel to skim the red coating from the wire, revealing only the bare parts. He held the wire in front of the blue, subtle flame of the flamethrower that Heavy was using.

Medic held the tray in one hand, and the red-hot wire in another. He glanced at Heavy, whose eyes were transfixed on the tray.

Medic neared the hot wire into the tray. The thoughts of the mercenaries jumbled together in a craze. Was the test going to work? What if it does? What will we do if it does?

Medic stepped back from his friend and stuck the hot wire into the blood. The mercenaries waited.

And waited.

Until Heavy was still Heavy, and the blood stayed the same.

Medic breathed a sigh of relief, and Heavy nodded towards him. He turned his flamethrower toward his friend.

“Let me show you what I already know” he said to his team. He reheated the wire on the subtle flame and stuck it into his blood pan. The mercenaries waited.

And waited.

Until the doctor stood as himself, with no changes to him or the blood.

“It’s a crock a shit.” Muttered Demo with an angry snarl on his face. Heavy slit the thumbs of the rest of the mercenaries, each emptying a small part of their blood into the pans.

“Alright, let’s try Scout.”

The Russian turned his flamethrower, along with the mercenary’s gaze to Scout, who had his back tied to Sniper. If one of them was a thing, its game over for the both. They weren’t enjoying it.

Medic reheated the hot needle and stuck it into Scout’s blood. A sizzle echoed through the room. The team waited.

And waited.

Though Scout sat there the same, the suspicions moved a few inches to Sniper. His blood sizzled the same as Scouts. The more and more people determined “safe” the more the tension grew.

As Medic held the tray of Spy’s blood in his hands, he was stopped short by Ms. Pauling.

“This is pure nonsense Doc, doesn’t prove a damn thing!” Ms. Pauling said. She was still visibly shaken up and in distress, the obvious conclusion being to the mercs she was being rash. Not Medic.

“I figured you’d say that, _Ms. Pauling.”_ The utterances of her name seemed to disgust Medic in his voice. “You were the one who drove us into this mess. We’ll do you last.”

As Medic stuck the hot needle into the blood of Spy, he was met with the force of it sprawling into the air. The blood smacked onto the ground, until it drove itself to the location of Spy.

The tense gazes of the team turned into horrified stares at Spy, whose body shook intensely. His hands split into loosely attached ropes, much like those that took Medic by the neck just an hour earlier.

“Flame him Heavy!” cried Medic to his friend, but as Heavy pulled the trigger onto what used to be Spy, the flames spewed out just barely. Heavy fumbled with the flamethrower as it refused to sing out flames.

Spy’s body turned into a bloody mess, splitting unrecognizably. Blood seeped out of the pores of his skin, and his body ripped through the ropes and flung towards heavy.

As Heavy discarded the flamethrower, he resorted into ripping the Thing in half. One part flew from him to the couch, as it crawled up to Solider and Demo. The other part engulfed Heavy’s hand, as it drew screams of pain from him. Heavy was flown around the room like a doll, before crashing through the wall behind the couch into the freezing desert. Medic ran into Pyro’s room, which conveniently held an assortment of flamethrowers. He hadn’t thought of bringing them all out at once, in case Heavy was a thing in the first place.

Scout and Sniper tried to beat themselves free of their rope as Ms. Pauling fumbled for a kitchen knife with her feet but couldn’t quite reach it. Scout succeeded in breaking himself free, as he tried to untie Sniper while looking on. Medic shot flames from the RV onto corpse of Heavy, who was in the process of assimilation.

Heavy’s body was being torn and re animated to the beasts liking. Medic practically emptied the canister of fuel into his friend. He jumped back into the kitchen, aiming for the couch with his flamethrower.

Peering over the counter, he watched in horror as solider and Demo were trapped by the thing, which quadrupled in size on the couch.

Solider exchanged a glance with Demo. Without words, they knew each other exact thought processes. Not even death could sever the bond between warriors. Solider looked towards the thing beside him, crawling onto the last bit of energy it had to assimilate him.

Solider muttered a simple phrase to his friend. “Welp, back to the front!”

Solider pulled off the pins of the incendiary grenades he had on his chest, which combusted and spread fire along the mid-section of the RV. Shrapnel from all five grenades blew through the air, punching holes through the walls and roof of the RV.

The shrapnel found its way through the floorboards, ripping through the vital components of the RV. Scout fell into the path of one of the shards, with pieces ripping through his legs. He fell back from the rope around sniper, taking him down with him onto the floor.

The smell of gasoline and oil filled the air, shortly before the flames exponentially grew, severing the RV in half. Medic retreated from the harm of the fire out of the kitchen.

The cold air of the desert combined with the heat of the barraging flames. The RV shifted as a beast suffering a mortal wound, with the sections of the RV shuddering around off balance.

Scout shifted himself up and leaned against the wooden end of the table and stared into the hot yellow and red terror ripping through the safety of shelter. He turned his torso towards Medic.

“Real nice effort Duestchbag” he said sarcastically. Medic shrugged it off and picked up the flamethrower, and the last lid that contained Ms. Pauling’s blood.

He yanked the hot wire into the vial and received no response. The doctor tossed the vial and wire into the fire and sat against the armchair.

Scout yanked the rope from Sniper enough to get him free, as Sniper picked Scout up and leaned him on the booth.

The flames crinkled away the evidence of the test, leaving behind the ash of their teammates. Sniper glanced through what remained of the RV. The cold air was dominating the fire, as the desert became unforgiving in changing the temperature.

The four remaining were no longer mercenaries, just survivors.

The snarl of a voice ran through the veins of all others.

 _“I understand you guys have been through a lot,”_ Ms. Pauling wheezed out in a shortness of breath. _“But I’d rather not spend the rest of my life tied TO THIS FUCKING COUNTER!!!!”_

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

The flames continued to rage silently in the night as the cold air from the desert swept in. Scout’s legs were perched up on the table and currently being bandaged by Ms. Pauling, as Medic and Sniper engaged in a screaming match with each other.

The pieces of shrapnel had been yanked out by Ms. Pauling, in a particularly painful process. Scout, when not swearing to himself to calm his pain, was keeping his resolve. He consistently checked with his eyes behind him, the corpses of his friends, and the few that were still alive.

His gaze met Ms. Pauling’s, as she finished wrapping. There were countless pieces of shrapnel from the combination of grenades Solider detonated without hesitation.

“I don’t zhink you understand, sniper” medic said with a stern tone.

Medic and Sniper had been going at it since Ms. Pauling has been untied. Medic held firmly that scout needed to be tested again, due to the fact the shrapnel might have been contaminated. Sniper held just as firm in the opposite.

“I know bloody well mate! You’re goin fucking paranoid!” said Sniper. “Watch, Scout?”

Scout looked up from his wounds that hurt even more than any wound he got from the battlefield. It was more an emotional wound than any. A reminder that, _Hey dickhead, your friends are all dead and here’s proof!_

“What, snipes?” he said with a drag.

“Where you get them dog tags, mate?”

Scout stared intensely at Sniper. It became fairly obvious it was something he did not want to talk about. _At all._

_“1 st Calvary division, 11th Air Assault Division”_

Sniper turned to Medic. “Happy?”

Medic wasn’t having any of it. “Did you not understand?!?! This thing assimilates! It takes over intelligence!”

Sniper shook his head. “There is no way it can recall something as tragic as that. Listen Doctor, I know what’s got ya mate. We’ve all lost someone. Heavy was-“

Medic wouldn’t let the man finish his sentence before slacking him across the jaw.

  _“YOU DO NOT HAVE ZHE RIGHT TO SAY HIS NAME! I WAS THE ONLY WAY TO SAVE US ALL! YOU GOT IN THE WAY! YOURE THE REASON THEY ARE ALL DEAD!”_

Medic persisted. He punched into Sniper gut.

“ _Mate. Ple-“_

Sniper was cut off by another hit to the head.

“Doc-“

Ms. Pauling frantically got up from her seat. “Jesus why can’t you guy-“

Medic had detached. Seeing his friends ripped apart in front of him was his wake-up call. This isn’t about him. This is about the fate of humanity itself. If that, _Thing_ gets out into the world, it will only be a matter of time before the world is assimilated.

He shoved Ms. Pauling to the ground and fetched his bone saw. He couldn’t have nay sayers disrupting this.

He shoved his bone saw into the gut of Sniper and tossed him aside.

Scout couldn’t believe his eyes. His doctor had gone mad. He at first didn’t believe it, but seeing Sniper’s blood spewed across his shirt, and Medic tossing him away like discarded trash was enough for him.

Scout still had the energy to ring a few shots into the air from his pistol. Medic’s reflexes were controlled by the bullets, eight in total.

Eight bullets in total. All to go with Eight bodies. He was saving the last one for himself.

As Medic’s lifeless body collapsed into the fire, Ms. Pauling, whose arm was dripped blood from glass, rushed over to Sniper.

Scout crawled his way over and leaned on the table. The flames heated around him, but flame wasn’t his main concern.

“Snipes…” he managed to cough out. Sniper didn’t respond.

“Sniper please man. Come on…”

Snipers body lay there motionless, blood still ever slowly pouring from his chest.

“Sniper please man! D-Don’t do that…”

No matter how hard Scout yelled to Sniper, nothing was changing.

Ms. Pauling tried to yank Scout off Sniper, but he wouldn’t budge. Scout shook, cursed, did anything he thought meaningful to him. No matter how hard he cried, how loud he screamed into the sky, Sniper, Solider, Demo, none of them were coming back.

“Scout. We need to go.”

Scout’s head was leaned on the end of the table, staring directly at Sniper. He silently gave in. He stood himself up, but the wounds on his legs gave in, almost throwing him back to the ground.

Ms. Pauling caught him before he could give himself some serious brain damage to go along with his bleeding legs. They maneuvered around the fire and were set down in the cabin, which was blown off from the rest of the RV in the explosion a few yards away.

The cabin remained for the most part intact, save for the electronics busted and the seats torn from the base. Ms. Pauling repositioned the two front seats to face across from each other, one for her and one for Scout.

Ms. Pauling checked her watch to show it was only 2 AM. It’s rather odd, she thought to herself, that so much life could be drained in such a short time span.

Scout rested his legs on the dashboard.

“So much for a fucking theme park” he mumbled. Despite the terrible situation they were in, that managed to get a laugh from Ms. Pauling. A small, terrified one that was probably masking a defeated sob.

Scout sat twirling his dog tags in the air. Before, she thought they had no meaning, she didn’t recall anyh mention of Vietnam in his file. Must have been thrown out.

Her thoughts escaped her mind before she could catch them, “If you were in Vietnam, why didn’t you tell us?”

Her brain was practically calling her a fucking idiot out loud. Everyone knew of the crazy shit that came out of Vietnam, and that’s only the small glimpses they allowed you to see.

Scout ceased twirling his dog tags in the air and exhaled for a second. “They aren’t even my dog tags.”

 

_“In the 11 th, we were the flyboys. The ones that ran on the helicopters you guys see in the movies.”_

The brazen sun was still set into his mind. 97 degrees Fahrenheit. Bell UH-1 Iroquois. Pvt. Jeremy.

Lt. Col. Kilgore, the madman, ordered an aerial attack on a Vietnamese village. They were holding a bunch of shit from the Russians, and this is where they distributed it. Taking this village could change the whole war. What a batch of fucking lies.

They must have dropped thousands of pounds of bombs on it before they landed. Him and his Brother, Logan didn’t have to leave their helicopters. They were a bit bummed they were in different ones.

They were placed on the doors of the Huey, both with the biggest guns the Army had to offer. Armed escorts always came with the finest machine guns.

The two dumbasses thought they were gonna go down as heroes like those in the second world war. Looking back on it now, it was so painstakingly obvious with the power of hindsight it was the stupidest idea of their lives.

The aerial assault went decent, but the troops on the ground didn’t have a good time. The enemy were absolutely batshit. Coming out of attics, suicide bombings, the whole nine yards.

Logan’s helo was supposed to evacuate the wounded on the ground, since all the medical helicopters were fucking off on some other bullshit. Everything would have been fine if that one god damn civilian didn’t show up.

The Vietcong were animals. He kept a close eye on the Huey, powerless to do anything when she threw that god damn hat in there. Logan, the idiot decided to throw the wounded outside instead of jumping out himself. He burned alive in that explosion. His mind was always thrown back into that day.

The explosion’s fire threatened to cook his own helicopter alive as his mind raced to comprehend. The radio burst through his ear with a million different voices.

_“OH JESUS CHRIST”_

_“GOD DAMN BLEW THE SHIT OUT OF”_

The words that caught him the most were of his Col. Next to him.

_“Fucking savages.”_

His mind immediately saw the woman that thre the bomb into the helicopter. The woman that killed his brother. The woman that was going to cause him to tell his mother only one of them is coming home. His actions ran through him before he could think as his commanding officer’s words dictated his actions.

“Make sure you get that dink bitch. Go over there Jeremy put the bullets in her fucking ass!”

His hands caused the bullets to ripple through the air and tear endlessly. Much as the Thing teared through his friends. Was Man any different than whatever that was?

His pilot brought him back to the memory.

“We gotta get some air in these trees its god damn eat up with enemies down here!”

“Taking fire taking hits all over the damn beach.”

“Drawing fire Drawing heli fi-“

The helicopter crash was abrupt. The forest broke most of the fall for them. His Col. Managed to get up and tried to get him up.

“Get up Scout!”

Did he have that nickname then?

“Scout!”

 

He snapped back to Ms. Pauling slapping him across the face. “Scout!”

He recoiled back and remembered the situation he was in. Teammates dead. The thing. No one can be trusted.

Ms. Pauling sat back in her seat. Her earrings still glistened in the night.

“There’s still water in the fridge. I’ll be back. Stay here. Got it?”

Scout nodded as Ms. Pauling equipped the flamethrower. It was heavy in her arms, but nothing she couldn’t handle.

As she left, Scout tended to his Molotov.

 

Ms. Pauling reached the fridge with no interruptions.  Even though the fridge lost electricity, the cold air was still insulated. She retrieved two bottles of water and placed in her pockets.

The creak of a door rippled through her ears, as she turned to face the doors of the dorms.

 

Scout managed to siphon from gas to make some defenses against the Thing if it ever comes back. He’ll burn the whole desert just to kill it.

He looked around at his surroundings, the feeling of being alone creeping up on him. He had the growing fear he was being watched.

 

Ms. Pauling torched the rest of the RV and made a break for the cab. She slowed before entering, sloping down on the seat.

She set the bottles down on the dashboard and rested her head back on the window.

“How long?” she mumbled softly.

“Till were assimilated?”” Scout asked.

“I was saying something like rescued, but that works too.”

The earrings persistently shone in the night. Scout thought back to Engineers hand.

Scout lifted a bottle and pressed it to his lips. An alternative to the water. He handed it to Ms. Pauling.

She took it from his hands and sipped it down. She set it on the center console in one of the cup holders.

“Why don’t we just wait a little while, see what happens?” scout said.

Ms. Pauling nodded, as the fire continued to burn around them.


End file.
